


Snap Back to Reality

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [11]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, First Meetings, Flogging, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Ben and Shannon meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An evening in three pieces, from three different points of view. This piece is from Ben's POV.
> 
> This piece lovingly looked over by the wonderful [pippinmctaggart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart).
> 
> Title from "Lose Yourself" by Eminem.

Ben was in a meeting with his agent and two of the producers as well as the director of _Third Star_ when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. It took all of his considerable self-restraint not to pull it out and check the display, he was that done with this particular gathering. Yes, they were leaving for Wales in the morning, yes, there were still many details to nail down, yes, he needed a goddamn assistant to deal with this shit. Between principle filming for both this movie and _Sherlock_ fast approaching, he had less and less time to see Tom, who also had a packed schedule plus the schedule of his girlfriend to consider. She’d been seeing him much more than Ben had been able to lately, that was for certain.

Hattie, the director, looked at him strangely. “All right, Ben?” 

“Hmm? Fine, sorry, just drifted for a moment.”

“Didn’t look like it was a good thought,” his agent John said.

“Oh, er…”

“You were flat out sneering,” Hattie said. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, girlfriend thing, nothing to worry about,” he said, shrugging. As he’d expected, they all shied away from pursuing the personal subject further and the meeting got back on track. 

An hour later, they were all shaking hands and getting ready to leave. Outside in the car park John pulled him aside.

“You’re sure everything’s all right?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Certainly nothing that will impact my jobs, I promise.”

“You’re a professional, I’m not bothered about the jobs. I’m asking after _you_.”

“Thanks, John, but I really am fine.”

“All right, well, let me know when you get settled in Wales, will you?”

“Of course! Cheers, mate,” he said, waving as he headed off toward his car. Once he slid in, he pulled out his mobile and saw that Tom had messaged him asking him to ring when he had the chance. He grinned widely, then sent a text saying he was out of his meeting and that he’d ring when he got home. He was surprised when Tom’s number came up on his screen almost immediately, hoping their dinner tonight wasn’t going to be cancelled. 

“Tom.”

“Ben, hi.” He sounded apologetic. Fuck.

“Don’t tell me you have to cancel on me.”

“What? No, not at all, only I was wondering if we might expand the guestlist tonight.”

“For whom?” Shannon was supposed to be out of town until after Ben left which was why they’d chosen this night.

“Shannon’s not leaving until tomorrow night now and I was really hoping to introduce the two of you before too much more time went by.”

“Really, Tom? I won’t be able to see you for ages and you want me to share you with her tonight?”

Tom sighed heavily. “I want two people who mean a lot to me to meet each other.”

“Why can’t this wait until after I get back?”

“I told you, she travels a fair bit herself and is also busy with her own work like we are. Do you imagine I’d ask you to meet her tonight if there were another time that worked for all of us in the near future?”

“I just want to spend some time with you, Tom. Alone.”

“I know, Benny, I know.”

“Don’t fucking cajole me, goddamn it! Ever since you met her, when push comes to shove I lose.” He ran his hand through his hair in extreme frustration, actually pulling on it.

“This isn’t a competition.” Tom’s cool voice showed Ben had landed a direct hit, however.

“I’m sorry, but your time is most definitely a competition and, of the two of us, she’s clearly in the lead. It’s unfortunate that our schedules don’t match up again for a while, but I wanted…” It was his turn to sigh heavily. He would, of course, give in and meet Shannon because Tom needed him to do it, and he’d come to realise that he’d do pretty much anything should Tom need it, even set aside his own needs. Accepting his fate, although far from happy about it, Ben blew out a breath. “I’ll be coming round to yours, then, I expect?”

“Mate, thank you.” The relief in Tom’s voice was infused with the warmth of lasting affection between them, friends and yet so much more. In that moment, Ben couldn’t tell himself that he wasn’t as important to Tom as Shannon was, and he hoarded that small truth close to his heart, feeling he needed the best defense he could gather before meeting the woman who’d so completely enthralled Tom. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, but he considered her an interloper, someone he was being forced to deal with in order to have Tom in some small semblance of the way he needed. He was dreading having to share physical space with her, of seeing them together, happy in a way he might never achieve. He rubbed his chest as if he could chase out the hollow feeling there.

“So what do you reckon?” Tom’s voice pulled him back from his spiralling thoughts.

“Sorry, what?” 

“Come round about six?”

“Oh, right, yeah, six sounds good.”

“Okay, see you.”

“Yeah, all right. ‘Bye.” After ringing off, he lifted his mobile, resting the top edge of it against his forehead as he closed his eyes and tried to stem the flood of ugly thoughts pouring into his head. Tom wanted him to befriend Shannon, to accept her even as she was taking Tom away from him just by virtue of being a woman in a society that readily accepted heterosexual couples and regularly penalised other types of relationships. He growled and threw his mobile into the passenger seat, gripping the wheel hard with both hands. The dash clock told him it was three o’clock, and he sighed and slumped forward, his forehead resting against the top of the wheel. “Fuck,” he muttered, straightening up and starting the car. 

 

After driving home, he wandered on foot down to Stefano’s, sitting at the bar as he’d done so many times since he’d moved to Hampstead Heath. It was only a moment before a shorter, barrel-shaped man made his way down the bar.

“What can I get for you, Ben?” he asked in his thick Italian accent.

“I don’t even know,” Ben said, deciding to allow himself the temporary melodrama. He sighed deeply and cradled his head in his hands.

The man behind the bar laughed and reached over, giving Ben a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It is surely not so terrible?”

“I don’t know, Giancarlo, it involves a woman.”

Giancarlo stepped back, his hands up. “I have nothing to say there except that if she is good woman, you must treat her well enough that she wishes to stay around you. Anything else, I send Alessandra for you.”

Ben straightened, huffing. “No need to get your wife, but I do appreciate the thought behind the offer.” 

Giancarlo laughed at him.

“Your wife is a...formidable woman, you must admit that,” Ben said.

“She is, and where would men be without a formidable woman to run things for them?” came a familiar voice behind Ben’s right shoulder.

He turned and grinned at his mate, Matthew Goode. “Goodey!” 

“If it isn’t my old Harrovian nemesis, Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“I’m surprised Exonians even know what that word means,” Ben replied in kind, glad his friend had chosen now to come in.

Matthew snorted and slapped Ben’s shoulder. “You’d be a prat no matter what school you attended,” he said as he pulled out the stool next to Ben’s. “Giancarlo, get this prat a Carling.”

“And the twat will also have a Carling. And also the chit, when it’s due.”

Matthew laughed as he shook his head. “How do you do that, Cumberbatch?” he asked as Giancarlo snorted and drew two pints.

“I was born like this,” he answered, chuckling. “This is definitely nature and not nurture.”

“Damn straight! Wanda would never let you push off a shout.” 

Ben turned to face him, face screwed up in false disbelief. “How do you reckon? You’re the one who swanned in and ordered me a pint! That makes it _your_ shout.”

“Bah, your Earth logic has no place here.”

“Mmm, well, we can use whatever logic you like as long as you pay the man.”

Matthew grumbled goodnaturedly as the pints were placed before them, but then he picked up his glass and cleared his throat as Ben was about to take a drink.

“Oh, it’s toasts, is it?”

“You’re making me pay so the least you can do is listen to my toast.”

“Oh go on, then,” Ben said as he turned sideways in his seat. “Let’s have it.” 

“To woman problems.”

“Really, Goodey?”

“If you have woman problems, Benny, it means you have a woman. Enviable spot, old boy.”

“Not in this case,” Ben muttered as he turned to face front again.

“Hey.” Matt put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Sorry, mate, I thought it was Livvie.”

Ben sighed heavily. “No, she and I have ended things for good. We’re much better off as passably friendly exes. She deserves better than me, that’s for certain.”

“That is possibly true, but it goes both ways, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s possible that I deserve to be in the position I’m in as penance for being a shitty boyfriend, if that’s what you mean.” Ben took a long drink from his glass. “Livvie tried for a much longer time than she should’ve, really.”

“The ‘position you’re in’ meaning--” Matt looked around to make certain no one was very close and then lowered his voice to finish with,”--meaning Tom?”

“Yeah, it’s his girlfriend who is my current woman problem.” He cut himself off from saying anything else. Matt was a good friend--good enough to know about the extra layer to Tom and Ben’s friendship--but this place was way too public to say the things that wanted to pour out of him. 

“Oh shit, Ben, I thought--”

“Don’t want to discuss it, Matthew. Ever, really, but definitely not here.” 

Matt nodded. “Fair enough.” 

They both drank from their pints before setting them down again on the bartop.

“I’m sorry, Matt, this is just not a situation I ever saw myself in.”

“I’m sure,” Matt replied, patting Ben’s shoulder. “Well, if you ever do decide to talk about it, I’ll be here.”

Ben turned and looked his friend in the eye. “I truly appreciate that, Goodey. I really do.”

“All right, well, enough of this mawkishness, we’ve pints to drain.”

“Indeed.”

 

 

An hour later, Ben left the pub and made his way home. He’d ended up having another pint after the first--also picked up by Goodey, because Goodey was a great mate like that--but knew that by the time he got back in his car to head over to Tom’s, he’d be fine. Inside the house, he went upstairs to change clothes and got angry again when he saw his bed made ready for what he’d thought he’d be doing with Tom on the night. He’d thought he’d be off to western Wales much relaxed, but apparently that was off the table now. There was no way Shannon would be leaving before he was tonight as he had an early start in the morning.

He changed into a button down shirt but kept on his comfortably worn jeans; he wasn’t trying to impress The Woman, he was making just enough effort for Tom to notice. In that vein, he didn’t put his scruffy trainers back on, but his Chelsea Docs, even if he was going to be leaving them just inside Tom’s door at the foot of the stairs. 

He made it to Tom’s in good time, found a decent parking spot down the block and used his key to get in the ground level door. Toeing off his shoes, he ascended the stairs, ready to knock at the inner door. A burst of laughter--Tom’s goofy one and the higher, obviously feminine one winding through it--stopped him, his fist centimetres from the jamb. For one horrifying moment he felt intensely sick, like he might honestly vomit right in Tom’s stairwell, but then it passed and he forced himself to knock, and, harder still, to wait until Tom opened the door for him. It was probably enough for now that Shannon would know he couldn’t have gotten where he was without a key to Tom’s flat. 

“Come on in, Ben,” Tom called from inside, Max barking once. More than likely they were on the sofa. Max’s nails clacked on the floor as he came to the door.

Uncertain of how he should greet Tom, he clenched his jaw as he opened the door and stepped through. As he’d thought, they’d been on the sofa, but Tom had stood and was coming round to him and…

“It’s good to see you, mate,” Tom said, low and warm, wrapping his arms around Ben, tucking his head under Ben’s chin and nuzzling his shoulder. 

Ben sighed and turned his head enough to rest his cheek against Tom’s head, his eyes sliding closed as he crumpled Tom’s shirt in his fist, his other hand coming up to splay over the back of Tom’s head. “And you.”

Even as he was clutching Tom, he wondered how Shannon was seeing the moment. Did she think him pathetic for holding on when she had what he thought was the clear upper hand? It was this thought that had him releasing Tom and stepping back, straightening his back before looking at her. He’d seen photos, of course, but she really was lovely--taller than average, pleasing curves, nicely sized tits. And really, Tom was a creature of habit. He had a type and that type was slender brunettes with light eyes, even going back to his school days, so it was no surprise that she had dark brown hair and changeable grey-green eyes.

She was wearing a long peasant skirt made in shades of blue and a tucked-in grey button-down shirt, and she looked informal without being overly casual. He was glad he’d put on his own button-down, truth be told.

He took another step back from Tom and crouched down to greet Max, scritching him and letting him lick his chin before he stood again. Shannon had come round to stand next to them and was smiling, though she looked just as unsure as he felt. Whilst it was true that this whole situation was awkward as fuck, he couldn’t find fault with how she was handling it, although perhaps that was yet another reason he was determined not to like her - she seemed to be handling this minefield with much more grace than he could dredge up. 

“Ben, this is my girlfriend, Shannon Jolicoeur. Shannon, this is my boyfriend Benedict Cumberbatch.” Tom was beaming, he was so pleased to have introduced them.

“Mr. Cumberbatch, I’m so happy to meet you finally! Tom speaks of you often and I’ve wanted to get to know you a little bit.” Her smile had warmed, but he would not be swayed from his course.

“Yes, he spends a lot of our time together speaking about you, too,” he replied in his most polite voice.

“Uh, I...” Shannon trailed off, looking over at Tom uncertainly.

“Ben.”

He widened his eyes as he looked between Tom and Shannon. “What?”

“Don’t.”

“I was making conversation. You know, where someone says something and someone else answers and the whole thing starts over again?” 

Tom put his hands on his hips, a frown forming between his eyes. “Don’t.”

Ben shrugged and looked back at her. “I just meant that I’ve heard about you as well. It’s obvious that Tom has fallen hard for you. I think were it possible for a human being to have actual hearts pounding in his eyes, he would.”

Shannon’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “You’re exaggerating, but I get what you mean. Thanks, I guess?”

“I’m not, though.”

Tom’s glare was boring into him; he wondered if Tom could see the pain he was in right now. Max could sense something off and whined, nudging Ben’s hand. He stroked over the dog’s head without looking away from Tom.

Shannon bit her lip and, after a long moment, came to decision. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but I think it’s obvious neither Tom nor I are very appreciative of the effort you’re expending on it, so how about you come in and get comfortable and then we find another subject to talk about.”

“All right.” He walked over to the lounge and almost sat on the sofa before veering over to the chair. Once he’d thrown himself into the chair, he realised that Tom and Shannon would now be sitting on the sofa. Together. Fuck. Well, too late to do anything about that without looking like a complete prick, Cumberbatch, he castigated himself as he pressed his lips together. It wasn’t that he was trying especially hard _not_ to be a prick, but that would make it entirely too obvious, and he was attempting to stay on the side of plausible deniability. Max followed him, sitting pressed against his legs, and Ben caressed him with his fingers.

Tom and Shannon came round the sofa a moment later, Shannon settling on the left hand side against the armrest, legs curled up, though her feet were to the side and over the edge of the cushion. To Ben’s surprise, Tom settled in the middle, feet up on the table.

“Tom told me you visited him in Pittsburgh the week after we were in New York,” Shannon said, her voice rising at the end though it wasn’t actually a question.

“Mm,” he answered, noncommittal, though the idea of her possibly asking Tom for supposed ‘safe’ topics to discuss during this visit made him huff a breath through his nose and smile a bit. “My visit was cut into blocks as Tom had to film the interior shots that were supposed to be done the week before, but I was very happy see him regardless.” 

“Oh. I didn’t hear that part.” Biting the inside of her cheek, Shannon looked to Tom who heaved a sigh.

“Ben, I told you those were changed by the director, not because I’d gone to New York.”

He blinked and widened his eyes. “Did you?”

“Yeah, I did. And even if I hadn’t, it’s pretty poor of you to bring it up as Shannon had nothing to do with any of it.”

“I never suggested she had, Tom.” He knew his reasonable tone was getting under Tom’s skin so he continued on with it. “She asked me a question and I--”

“Okay, _stop_ ,” Shannon interjected, holding her up her hand, palm out. “Just stop. If you didn’t want to come here, why did you?”

“Because my boyfriend wanted me to, regardless of how I felt about it.”

“Our.” 

“Excuse me?” He sat up straight in the chair at her gall. 

“He’s _our_ boyfriend.”

“Of course. You’re quite correct. _Our_ boyfriend,” he sneered, the left side of his mouth pulling up in dislike, “decided that what I _needed_ tonight mattered less than what you _wanted_ , and so here we bloody well are.”

“What are you even _talking_ about?” Shannon demanded.

“Enough.” Tom’s cool, clipped tone washed over him and his eyelids lowered quite without his permission. “Get up, we’re going to have a chat. Shannon, we’ll be back.”

Ben hadn’t moved by the time Tom stood and walked round to him, waiting to see what he might do in front of Shannon. They stared at each other for long seconds, neither willing to back down.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, what are you, two?” Shannon retorted, getting up and stalking into Tom’s office, closing the door behind herself. Max whined and took a few steps after Shannon before turning back.

“Why are you treating Shannon like this?” 

“Politely?”

“Yes.”

“You’d prefer me to say, ‘just fuck off out of the picture already’ straight to her face? I can do that, too.”

“I’d prefer you to deal with this like an adult and find common ground with her. The two of you are--”

“No,” he cut in. “You don’t get to fuck me over like you have since you met her and then put that on me. You--Jesus, you _broke up with me_ , Tom!” he snapped, his lowered voice dripping with frustration, “You chose her over me the night you met her and you’ve been choosing her over me ever since.”

“Listen, Ben--”

“No _you_ listen! I _needed_ you tonight. Just like I fucking _needed_ you the day you broke it off with me on a goddamned wing and a prayer that a relationship with her might work!”

“I’ve already admitted I made mistakes and could have handled that whole situation better, Ben. I feel shitty about hurting you like that, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.” 

Tom’s genuine remorse took the wind out of his sails and he sagged back into the chair, sighing. “Yeah, well guess what, you’ve hurt me again. And again. I don’t know how I can compete with her. This isn’t a level playing field.”

“I don’t want you to compete. I’ve never wanted that.”

“Society doesn’t give a fuck what you want in this, Tom. It doesn’t give a fuck what I want either, obviously.” He rubbed his face with both hands then came to a decision and stood. “Fair warning: I’m not going to stop fighting for you and I’m not going to apologise for it, either. I’ll be polite if we must be in the same place, but don’t require that I be friendly with the person who keeps me from spending the time I need with you. That will not end well for any of us.”

Tom sighed. “Are you leaving then?”

“Yes, I am. I’m going to go home and try to settle enough to sleep. I’ve got an early start for my drive to Wales tomorrow.”

Swallowing hard, Tom stepped forward, stroking his hand down Ben’s arm then catching his fingers with his. “I hate to let you go like this.”

“I wish you didn’t have to, but I’m sorry, Tom, I’m not going to sit here and have it rubbed in my face the rest of the evening.” Ben squeezed Tom’s hand and started to turn toward the door, but Tom surprised him, tugging his hand.

“Come here and give us a kiss first, if you want to.”

His eyebrows rose. “Do _you_ want to?” 

“Don’t be daft, Benny, of course I want to kiss you. I’m not pleased with the situation we currently find ourselves in, but I don’t want to lose you either. We’re worth fighting for.”

There was suddenly a lump in his throat; he didn’t know whether Tom was referencing Shannon as well, but the sentiment hit him like a punch to his gut either way. “Tommy…”

Tom pulled him in against his chest, arms wrapping tightly around him. “Don’t want to lose you,” he repeated.

Ben returned the embrace for several seconds before pulling back enough to look down at Tom. “You won’t.”

Tom surged up, taking Ben’s mouth in a deep kiss, and Ben melted back into his embrace, opening his mouth wider under Tom’s. Despite the possibility for a harder and more controlling layer, Tom kept it soft, and Ben went with it, enjoying it more than he would have had Tom pushed and then not followed through, as they both knew he couldn’t.

Too soon, they separated and Ben tucked his forehead to Tom’s as they breathed each other’s air, that moment almost more intimate than the kiss been.

“I’ll ring you from Wales.”

Tom tipped his head, pressing one more soft kiss to Ben’s lips. “All right. Drive safely, yeah?”

Ben huffed a breath. “Yeah.” Reluctantly, he pulled away and walked to the inner door. With his hand on the knob, he looked back over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this hasn’t turned out the way you wanted, Tom. You may not believe me, but that’s true.”

Tom didn’t look angry, only disappointed which was even harder to deal with, as always. “I reckon I’ll take what I can get at this point,” he said, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair.

“I’ll lock the outer door. Good night,” Ben said, opening the door and going through. As he closed the door behind himself he could hear Shannon asking if he was leaving and Tom’s dejected “Yeah,” in reply. He half expected her to open the door and call him a prick or something of the sort, and wasn’t certain how he felt when it didn’t happen. As he pulled on his boots at the bottom of the stairs, he felt an odd sense of unreality, as if he’d turned right when he should have turned left, but after a moment the sensation cleared and he stepped out into the night, locking the outer door behind himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shannon POV

Shannon barely tempered herself as she closed the door to the office, throwing herself into the desk chair and closing her eyes as she leaned back. She felt like her chest was filled with fire, her jaw clenched shut as if to keep it from spilling out. She hadn’t expected to be best friends with Ben from the off, but she’d hoped they’d be able to have a pleasant evening. Her own work engagements were followed by Tom’s time away from London and she couldn’t deny that she would have preferred to have him all to herself, but it was past time for her to meet Ben. It had seemed as good a time as any, and then Ben had been so unbelievably hateful. 

She sighed deeply, trying not to give into the urge to actually growl in frustration. Nothing he’d said had actually been hostile or insulting but his tone had grated on her while his words gave her next to nothing to reasonably push back on. When he’d refused to leave the living room with Tom she had felt the sudden urge to slap him, his recalcitrance absolutely enraging. 

Shannon stood up and reached her arms over her head, stretching hard before leaning forward and resting her hands on the floor. The stretch in the back of her legs burned, but it took her mind off the fact that Tom was undoubtedly giving out to Ben in the living room over Ben’s behavior. 

The sound of blood pounding in her ears faded as she held her pose, and she couldn’t help but replay some of what Ben had said, about Tom being with her when Ben had needed him. She stood up slowly as she examined the idea that Ben had wound up in need, as he said, on account of her. She sat down again, pondering when she had needed to see Tom, rather than wanting to see him. Immediately after seeing her mother she had wanted his calming presence very badly, but he hadn’t been available and she’d made do with a phone conversation and then took care of herself the best she knew how. The longer she stayed with Tom, though, the more she might come to depend on him. The thought filled her with a momentary discomfort. With Marc she had gone years enjoying his company without ever depending on him, and without ever making herself available to be depended upon. She tried to imagine a time that she had needed David rather than merely wanting to see him, but sifting through those disjointed memories was too much work for her mind that was still focused on Ben. She stood and paced. In a few moments Tom would surely come to get her and they would try to start over. She had planned a simple meal and it was nearly assembled, but putting it together might be a neutral thing they could do together. She stretched her arms out, trying to get rid of the tight tense feeling that seemed to fill her shoulders, then started as she heard the front door open. 

Shannon stepped out into the living room in time to see Ben closing the door behind himself. 

“Is he leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Tom rubbed his hand over his face. She felt frozen to the floor. 

“Why?” She sat on the edge of the sofa. “Was it to do with me storming off?”

Tom shook his head. “Leaving the room was the best choice there, as he forced it to be that way,” Tom said. “He left because he couldn’t find it in himself to be civil at this moment.”

“Because I’m so fucking horrible?” Shannon drew her feet up onto the cushion, wrapping her arms around her knees. 

“It’s not to do with you,” Tom said, his voice slightly raised. He sighed. “It’s to do with me.” He straightened up and turned to her, but looked as frozen as she had felt moments before.

“He said he _needed_ you and I was standing in the way of him seeing you,” Shannon said. “What was that all about?” She waited for Tom to move, even blink, but it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“Can we have dinner?” Tom asked.

Shannon shook her head. “What?”

“I will answer you, but despite all of this I am hungry, and I can’t think at the moment. Can we eat?”

Shannon stood up, surprised to realize that she felt hungry herself. “Sure.” She walked over to the kitchen, relieved when he followed her. 

She handed Tom the package of lettuce mix and a pepper, then poured the cooked chicken and tortellini into a pan to warm them in a bit of oil. 

“I guess we’ll have leftovers now anyway,” she said as she put the lid on the pan, leaving it on low.

“Guess so,” Tom said. He’d divided the lettuce and the pepper between the two plates though and looked lost. 

“It’s fine,” she said, filling a water glass for herself. “Do you want water?”

Tom nodded and she brought the glasses over to the table. Back at the stove she poked at the warming food with a spatula, then covered it again. “It’ll be a moment,” she said. “It’s already cooked though.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Tom leaned back on the counter, his arms crossed. Shannon turned the heat up briefly, wanting the food to be more than lukewarm, gave it one more stir, and then put a portion onto each plate. Tom brought the plates to the table as she gathered forks and napkins for them.

“Bon appetit,” she said as she sat down.

“Thanks for making this,” Tom said.

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t look at him, busy spearing a fork full of lettuce before allowing herself to pick up a piece of chicken or pasta, somewhat daunted by the mountain of greens he’d served her. She was halfway through her food before either of them spoke again.

“Thanks for letting me collect my thoughts,” Tom said. 

“Of course.” Shannon waited for him to say more, but he was still looking at his plate. “So, tonight could have gone better.”

“To say the least.” Tom glanced up at her, but didn’t go on.

“From where I was sitting at least, Ben was being a real prick.” The same thought that had been nagging at her all evening resurfaced, and she was finally able to give a name to it. “I have to believe he’s not like that all the time or else what do you see in him?”

“He’s not,” Tom said. “He was a prick tonight, but,” he paused, pushing his plate away. “I think I might have had him set up for that in a way.”

“How?” Shannon felt her stomach turn over, her dinner suddenly feeling very heavy.

Tom lifted his head and looked at her. “You know that I basically broke up with him the day after I met you?”

“Yeah.” Shannon cleared her throat, then drank. She’d pushed that thought to the back of her mind every time it had surfaced over the previous months.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal because I thought we were casual. Turns out we weren’t, I agreed to try, and I didn’t think about how that meant I was essentially starting two new relationships at once. I think there have been times that I wasn’t fair to him, in terms of my time.”

“Meaning?” Shannon asked.

“Meaning that there were times if I had a single day or a part of a day and I could see you or him, I tend to ring you lately. Not because I want to dismiss him, because I don’t.”

“Because I’m new?” Shannon asked. She thought of how little she already saw Tom, and wondered if seeing him even less as the excitement of a new relationship wore off would be sustainable. 

“There might be an element of that,” Tom said. “But it’s not just that. Ben has been angry with me over how I’ve handled this, that I couldn’t read his mind and know that he had assumed we were in a serious relationship already. I was angry with him for making such a stupid assumption. Every time I see him we have to work around that a little bit. You and I, we aren’t angry with each other.”

 _Give me a minute_ Shannon thought, then was surprised when Tom laughed.

“I know I can’t read minds, but your face just told me, we aren’t angry yet.”

Shannon smiled and shrugged. “It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it? Though hopefully it doesn’t carry on as long as between you and Ben.”

“Probably wouldn’t have done, except that I’ve barely seen him,” Tom said. “Vicious cycle.”

“So that’s figured out then,” Shannon said. “Still doesn’t explain why he had to be a prick to _me._ He could have tried harder to have a nice evening. Unless he thinks I’ve been somehow manipulating you.”

“I didn’t really get that feeling. I think he blames me, but without you there’d be no one other than him who would get any of my time. He took it out on you which was,” Tom sighed. “Exceptionally shitty.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Shannon speared the last of her chicken and pasta, leaving a good amount of lettuce behind. “He said there were times that he _needed_ you and you chose to be with me,” Shannon said. “Is that true?” 

“He thinks it is but he never told me on those occasions that he needed me,” Tom said. “If he had said that he needed to see me I would have made it happen.”

Shannon looked at her plate as she thought. That sounded right, but it would be easy to exploit, an ultimate kill switch for someone else’s plans.

“I’d do the same for you,” Tom said. “In case you were wondering.”

Shannon held her chin in her hand, elbow on the table, as she considered him. “I guess I wasn’t wondering, but it’s nice to know. And in the face of you having other plans, I wouldn’t say I needed you unless I really did.” She wondered again what it would take for her to go from intense want to need, and what it would take for Ben, but Tom didn’t seem to doubt Ben’s sincerity, only his ability to actually say what he needed.

“Does Ben have trouble using his words?” Shannon asked.

“Yes.” Tom reached across the table for her hand. “Exactly yes.”

She took his hand, realizing how much she’d missed touching him, for all that she’d been in his flat all evening.

“I’ll do my best not to have that problem,” Shannon said. “As far as I know, I don’t.”

“Good. I’m going to have to be clear with Ben on that point. Hopefully that’ll help in the future. As for tonight, though, he owes you an apology.”

Shannon ran her thumb over the inside of his wrist, considering. “I would appreciate an apology, but if he feels compelled to apologize to me at the outset of our next meeting I’m not sure that’s going to go well

“I won’t compel him then, I’ll just remind him that it would be the right thing to do.”

Shannon let go of his hand as she stood. “Alright.” She collected their plates and forks, Tom following her to the sink. “I’m not sure what I would do if I had to apologize for every time I wasn’t my best self, but that spiraled pretty badly and it sucked being on the receiving end of it.”

Tom handed her a towel as he turned on the tap. “It was particularly unfair for him to insinuate that our trip to New York had anything to do with my schedule being changed the following weekend. I could see that bothered you.”

“It did, precisely because I don’t like to think of my time with you coming at the expense of anyone else’s, but of course that’s just the way things are, with anyone. It’s just a little clearer with us.” She dried the plates as he handed them to her, placing them in the rack next to the sink. Tom scraped the rest of the chicken and pasta into a clean container and then washed the pan, wiping his hands on his jeans as Shannon dried it and set it on the rack. 

He opened his arms to her for a hug. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him and holding on as he squeezed her tight. His arms loosened but didn’t let go, and she let her head rest on his shoulder, closing her eyes. 

She’d lost track of time when he spoke. 

“This isn’t how I wanted our last evening for a while to go.” He shifted his hands from her lower back to between her shoulder blades, gently kneading at the tense muscle there.

“I mean, I assumed not,” Shannon said. “Though you’re welcome to keep doing that as long as you like.”

Tom put his hands on her hips and turned her around, nudging her towards the sofa. She took the hint and sat down, Tom standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

She let her head fall forward as he worked over the tense areas in her shoulders and neck, leaving herself lax as he slid his forearms under her arms and around her chest, pulling her up and back. She let him support her as her spine stretched out, then sighed happily as he set her down. She reached her hands up to him, wiggling her fingers and he held her hands in his for a moment. 

“I’m fine,” he said, letting go and walking round to sit next to her.

“If I managed to get into your traps I’d probably be wrecked all over again,” she said. He smiled and shrugged, nodding as he agreed with her. “What time is it anyway?”

“A little after half seven, I think,” Tom said.

“I’m exhausted.” She closed her eyes, thinking of the next thing she wanted to say, trying it out in her mind before she spoke. “You should call Ben.”

She kept her eyes closed, waiting.

“Why?” Tom asked.

Shannon turned towards him, leaning on the back of the sofa. “This isn’t how anyone wanted this evening to go. I’m alright though. I think Ben might not be alright, and he’s going off to Wales to film some pretty intense stuff. He might need you. Or at least want you, to get him off on the right foot.”

Tom reached out for her hand. “So, you think I should ring him up?”

“And then I think you should see him tonight.” Shannon looked around the flat. “I can get home tonight if you want to have him over here.”

“It’s so much further to the airport in the morning,” Tom said. “And you already said you were exhausted.”

Shannon nodded. “If he wouldn’t mind having you over that would be better for me, I’ll admit.”

“You could let yourself out in the morning?” Tom asked. “I know it’ll be early.”

“I could take Max for a walk too,” she said. “Happy to do it.”

Tom let her hand go and reached for his phone, sending a brief text.

“What did you say?” Shannon asked.

“You up?” Tom said.

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Not sure that’s the message he needed to get just now.”

“He’ll understand.”

“I guess you’d know.” She shifted closer, turning so her back was to his side. As she’d hoped, he pulled her close. 

“I sort of can’t believe you’d do this for him after the way he treated you.”

“I knew you were with him when we started. Well,” she amended. “I knew soon enough. And I’d like to spend the evening with you, but not at the expense of someone else really suffering, even if he was acting like a prick tonight. I have to assume that’s not how he is all the time, or else you wouldn’t be with him.”

“Very true,” Tom said. “This was all a lot easier when he was consistently seeking other partners. To think about, anyway. It wasn’t like, if I wasn’t with him he was going to be alone.”

“Might be easier if I was too,” Shannon said, unable to keep the smirk off her face. It was an interesting concept.

“That honestly never occurred to me, given that it wasn’t part of the situation when we first met,” Tom said. 

“I don’t expect to,” Shannon said. “I mean, it was almost a year between the last time I saw Marc and when I met you in a dark alley. It takes a lot to spark my interest.”

“Then I’m flattered,” Tom said, kissing the top of her head.

“It’s not like I’m not intrigued that I could, if I wanted to,” Shannon said. “And I am going to Iceland.”

“What does Iceland have to do with it?” Tom asked. 

“Dating and hooking up is just different there,” she said. “Sort of friendlier. I’m not planning on anything, just saying it’s funny that of all the places I might be going as a person with pretty much free reign, chances are pretty good there.”

“I’ll be interested to hear about your trip, no matter what happens,” Tom said. His phone rang and he twisted his arm back to retrieve it. “Hello?” He sat up, gently easing her away from him. 

She shifted to the opposite end of the sofa as he spoke. 

“No, it wasn’t a joke, I really did want to know if you were up,” Tom said. “No, Shannon is still here. She’s going to stay here tonight to go to the airport in the morning.” He paused, listening, and Shannon got up, going into the bedroom and shutting the door. 

In the washroom she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair up. She washed her face and changed into the soft track pants and t-shirt she wore to bed, leaving her bra on top of the dresser with her clothes for the next day. She sat on the edge of the bed, still surprised by how ready for sleep she was.

Tom knocked before he came in, Max treading softly behind him. 

“I’m going to go over to Ben’s,” Tom said. “I’ll take Max out for a quick walk, and then I’ll go over. Do you want Max in his crate tonight?”

Shannon considered. “We’d probably both sleep better if he was,” she said. “I’m all set for a lift and I’m leaving at stupid o’clock in the morning so I don’t suppose I’ll see you before I go.”

“No. You don’t have to take Max out if you’re pressed for time, either. I’ll be back in time for his usual.”

“We’ll see. Have fun,” she said, standing up to hug him. Tom pressed his face to her neck as he held her close. “Really, do have a nice evening,” she said as he stepped back. As he kissed her she was surprised to find that she truly didn’t think it odd that he would be kissing both of his partners in the space of a single evening. 

“Thanks.” He loosened his arms but kept holding onto her. “Have a good trip. You know, anyone you feel safe and comfortable with, feel free to just go for it, tell me about it later.”

“Is it weird that I find that really sweet?” Shannon asked. They had nearly separated, her hands just loosely holding onto his wrists.

“Well, _I_ don’t think so,” Tom said.

She laughed, letting him pull back the covers for her as she eased herself into the bed. “Fair enough. I still don’t think anything that interesting is going to happen, but I’ll let you know if it does.” Her eyes were closing as her head hit the pillow.

“Good deal.” Tom leaned over tucking the covers closely around her shoulders, kissing her temple. “Is your alarm set?”

“Mmm hmmm.” Shannon heard him pick up her phone, presumably checking to make sure that she had done it.

“Alright. I won’t wake you when I come back to put this guy in his crate,” Tom said.

Shannon nodded, his hand on her shoulder the last thing she felt before she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom goes round to Ben's house for the evening.

Ben opened the door and stepped back to let Tom in, standing in the narrow hallway as Tom locked the door. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Ben said, reaching for him as Tom turned around.

“I rang ahead and everything,” Tom said as they embraced. Ben bent his head forward, leaning well over Tom’s shoulder, and Tom wondered if he was trying to make himself smaller.

“I just mean in general.” Ben straightened himself and stepped back. “Did you coming here cause a problem between you and Shannon?”

“No. Not at all.” Tom shook his head. 

Ben’s forehead creased. “She’s not angry or irritated that you’re here?”

Tom had debated telling Ben the origin of their time together but he was left nearly without a choice. “She insisted on it.”

Ben’s eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch more. “What? Why would she do that?”

“She could see you were hurting and she didn’t want to be the cause of anyone suffering,” Tom said. 

Ben’s face smoothed out. “So. She pities me. Great.” He sighed deeply. “Just what I wanted, to have her see me as pathetic.”

“No!” Tom’s shout surprised him, and Ben too, judging by the way he jumped back. “Stop,” he said more quietly. “You don’t need to put an ugly face on it. You were a prick tonight but she heard you say that you needed me and I hadn’t been there. Despite the fact that you treated her terribly she heard you. She decided she was ok and she was worried that you weren’t.”

“If I acted as a prick, as you say, why would she care at all?” Ben asked, his arms crossed.

“Because she’s smart enough to know that just because someone acts like a prick it doesn’t mean they are a prick,” Tom said. “Do us both a favor and don’t test that theory.”

Ben rolled his eyes as he turned and walked into the house. Tom took a moment in the hallway to toe off his shoes and settle himself, staying there until the urge to take Ben by the shoulders and shake him went away.

He found Ben standing in front of the bookshelf in his living room, staring at the spines of the books as if he were looking for something. Tom stopped in the middle of the room, not wanting to crowd him.

Tom waited for Ben to speak, but Ben only reached up for a book, took it down, and reshelved it a few inches away. 

“Ben,” Tom said, and Ben stilled, but didn’t turn. “When you need me, you need to tell me.”

“That simple, is it?” Ben rested his hand on the shelf, giving no sign that he intended to turn around.

“It might not be simple, but it would make things easier.”

Ben turned slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And if you’ve already told me that you’re spending time with Shannon, what then, does that not make me look like a whiny shit?”

“So open with that,” Tom said, suddenly realizing that a lot of Ben’s conversations with him of late had begun with the question of what Tom was planning on doing. “Tell me what you need then let me determine how to deal with other plans. Don’t just decide that I’d do nothing and never ask me. That’s not fair.”

Ben sighed, reaching back into a wicker basket and pulling out a decorative woven ball, tossing it off the end of his fingers so it spun on the way down. He caught it when it was at his waist level and sent it spinning up again without looking away from Tom. 

“What’s not fair is never having an in because you’re always choosing her by default. That’s why I ask first, because I’m tired of being disappointed and it’s better to know right off the bat.” Every time he tossed the ball it went higher, hitting his fingers with a soft slapping sound as it landed.

Tom bit back on the reply that he was _always_ choosing Shannon. It was uncomfortably close to the truth. “You’re right, that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.” Tom cleared his throat. “I don’t always choose her but I have been choosing to spend time with her more lately than you. I can do better.”

Ben turned back to the shelf as he put the ball away. “I suppose I can do better too.” The words were kind but the tone was so snide, the pronunciation so precise, that Tom felt immediately enraged, crossing the living room in two strides, stopping himself when he was just over an arm’s length from Ben’s back.

“What the fuck do you want, Ben?” He was nearly shaking with the effort of not reaching out to grab Ben, and he could hear it in his voice. From the tension visible in Ben’s shoulders, he could hear it too.

Ben turned around slowly. “I don’t want to share you with her,” he said, crossing his arms. “That’s the long and short of it.”

Tom stared at him standing there, calm and collected while he, himself, wanted to scream. “You do realize that’s completely counter to our entire history.”

“I do. As I said earlier, things change.”

“And as I told you earlier, you never told me that things had changed.” Tom crossed his arms as well, knowing it made him look bigger but truly trying to hold himself together.

“Well you know now, have done for a while. That’s the best I can do.” Ben unfolded his arms, walking past Tom into the kitchen.

Tom took a deep breath and followed him. “Aren’t you still seeing Martin and Amanda?” he asked as he walked into the room. The sight of Ben taking two mugs down from the cupboard surprised him, but apparently Ben was hoping he wasn’t going to leave right away.

“I am,” Ben said, filling the kettle. “However, that is casual and I would give it up in a moment if necessary.”

Tom held on to the back of a kitchen chair as Ben leaned on the worktop. “If what you really need to be happy is monogamy, I’m sorry but I can’t give that to you. Not only because of Shannon, not ever.”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t need that.” Next to him the kettle started rumbling, loud but not quite ready yet. “It’s not that you’ve got another partner, it’s that it’s _her_.” 

Tom struggled to think of what Ben could possibly find fault with in Shannon, given that he didn’t know her at all. They stood in near silence as the kettle clicked off. Ben poured the water over each teabag and set the cups on the table before he spoke again.

“I know I don’t know her,” he said, as if he had been able to read Tom’s mind. “It’s the timing. She’s the person you were willing to give me up for. I don’t think I can ever get over that.”

“So if we had gotten it straight about the fact that we weren’t casual any longer and then I’d met her, you think you’d stand a chance of getting along with her?” Tom took the milk when it was offered to him, handing it back to Ben as he sat down at the table.

“I do. There’s nothing about her that I find offensive, right off the bat,” Ben said.

“You hardly know a single thing about her,” Tom said. 

“What little I do know isn’t, of itself, offensive at least.” Ben put the milk away and sat down. 

“So we’re all going to suffer because you and I got our wires crossed. Does that make any sense to you at all?” Tom asked.

“I never said it made sense. I’m just being honest. This is how I feel.”

Tom nodded, unable to think of a reply that didn’t include railing at him. They drank in silence for a few moments before Ben spoke again.

“I _know_ it doesn’t make sense. My complaints aren’t with her, unless she has been actively trying to keep you from me, and given that she sent you over here, I don’t think she has.”

“Your complaints are with me, and as I’ve said, that’s fair,” Tom said. “All I can do is promise to do my best going forward, with regards to both of you.”

“I can offer you the same. I’m just afraid my best will turn out not to be good enough.”

“Let’s just try it and see,” Tom said. 

“Is she willing to try it and see?” Ben asked.

“She sent me over here, so I’d say yes. You can probably ask her the next time you see her.”

Ben’s shudder was only just visible, real, then, not for show. “Hopefully we can open with something a bit lighter, if she’ll let me. I don’t suppose it would be out of the realm of reason for her to think I should open with an apology the next time I see her.”

“She’s not like that,” Tom said. “Like you said, we’re all just going to do our best.” 

Ben drank in silence for a few more minutes, then looked up suddenly. “You said she heard me when I said I needed you. Does she have any idea what I meant by that?”

“She doesn’t know about that side of us, of me,” Tom said, correcting himself. “We haven’t discussed it at all.”

Ben regarded him for a moment before speaking. “I know this is going to sound terribly opportunistic, but I think you really need to sort that out with her sooner rather than later.”

“Why would that be opportunistic on your part?” Tom asked.

“If it was a deal breaker with her she’d be out of the picture. I don’t want that to happen, but I’d forgive you for not believing me in that regard.”

Tom snorted, surprised into a laugh by Ben’s mental contortions. “I don’t think that what I do with you will be a deal breaker, but I have no idea how she’ll take it in regards to herself.”

“In any case, wouldn’t it be more fair to her, to allow her that information before she gets in any deeper with you?”

“You have a point.” Tom finished his own cup of tea and took his mug to the sink, sloshing some water in the bottom of it before setting it into the dishwasher. “As for you. What are we going to do with you this evening?” Ben looked almost comical, frozen with his cup nearly to his mouth. “Go on, finish your tea,” Tom said, knowing that following even that mild command would have a certain kind of pleasure for Ben. 

“What did you have in mind?” Ben asked as he put the empty cup down. He stayed seated as Tom collected his mug and washed it out as well.

“I think the more pertinent question is, what did you have in mind?” Tom asked. 

Ben looked down at the table, unable to meet his eyes. “Quite a lot more than I have any right to hope for now, I’d say.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that.” He heard the echo to what he’d told Ben earlier about letting him decide how he spent his own time, and hoped Ben didn’t try to call him out on being overly paternalistic. “What do you want?”

Ben licked his lips as he lifted his head. “I want you to dominate me. I want you to hurt me just enough that I still feel it tomorrow.”

“And you didn’t just want that, you needed it.” Tom sat down across from him. “Why?”

“I haven’t seen you for a while, won’t see you again for longer than I’d like. I need the reassurance that I’m still important enough to you for you to expend that kind of energy. I want to be sure you know I’m still willing to give you all of me. To have both of those things would be incredibly comforting which I need right now.” Ben held his gaze for the entirety of his speech but Tom could tell it had taken a great deal of effort. In saying so much, Ben had essentially laid himself bare.

“Hmm.” Tom had taken everything in, but couldn’t quite yet form his thoughts into words. He stood up and pushed his chair in, acutely aware that Ben was watching his every move. “Right. I can do that for you, but I can’t do it right this moment. Can we go upstairs?”

“Of course.” Ben almost tripped over himself getting up, then awkwardly held onto the back of his own chair, waiting for Tom’s next move.

“I don’t imagine you’ll be coming down here until morning. Do you want to button the house up?”

Ben nodded, going to the front room, checking the locks and setting the alarm, from the sounds of it. Tom looked around the kitchen, thinking about what he might wind up coming back down for, and then checked the refrigerator. Ben came back to the kitchen in time to see Tom pulling out two bottles of water, and gave him a shaky smile. 

It was so endearing, the sight of Ben excited by what amounted to their own strange shorthand of getting ready for a scene that Tom felt the lion’s share of the tension that had filled him over the evening leave him in a rush. He reached for Ben, pulling him close with one arm, easing a hand up to the back of his neck to convince him to lean down for a kiss.

Ben leaned into him so hard that when Tom opened his mouth it was automatic, changing the shape of his face to give Ben room. A moment later he was pressing back, Ben’s mouth and tongue delightfully warm, warmer than usual on account of the tea and still pleasantly tasting of both the herbal fragrance and Ben’s own taste. Tom let himself get lost in it, Ben’s hand cradling the back of his head, a necessity, since Tom was shorter, but not exactly the dynamic Ben had asked for. Tom forced himself to stand up straight, stepping back as Ben let his hand fall.

“As soon as we get into your room, it’s on,” Tom said, reaching up to grasp Ben’s chin for a fraction of a moment. 

“Got it.”

Ben was in front of Tom as they ascended the staircase. When Ben stepped into his room he moved to the opposite edge of the bed from the door and then stopped, standing with his back to the washroom door. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, sticking them in his pockets one moment, then pulling them out, finally settling with them clasped in front of himself. The set of his shoulders was rigid, as if he knew how awkward he looked, but he held still, clearly fighting the urge to fidget.

Tom watched from the doorway for a moment, then took pity on him. 

“Strip.” He kept the command simple, and Ben complied immediately. He slipped his shoes off and nudged them next to the dresser, followed by his trousers, folded and laid over the press in the corner. His shirt went to the press too, apparently good enough for a day of travel. Ben never stopped moving, despite his deliberate actions. Once he was down to his vest, pants, and socks he peeled those off efficiently, stepping just inside the washroom to drop them in the clothes hamper. As he stood next to the bed again he rolled his shoulders back, his hands curled at his sides. 

“You want me to hurt you,” Tom said, thinking out loud as he checked in with Ben. 

“Yes.” 

“Am I to assume that marking you is still out of the question?” 

Ben sighed heavily. “Sadly, yes.”

“You said you wanted to feel it tomorrow.” Hurting him without leaving marks was entirely possible, but there was a certain range of possibilities he wanted to narrow down.

“I do.” Ben swallowed hard before he continued. “It’s how I take you with me.” 

Tom stepped towards him before he’d even decided to move, reaching up to cup the side of his face. “Wish I could just come with you,” he said. The idea wasn’t so far fetched. It was Wales, after all, not some other continent. 

“What would you do while I’m gone all day?” Ben asked.

“Hide in your room, lazy like a fat house cat. Then pounce on you when you come back at night.”

Ben chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tom stepped back. Ben was still trying to hold still, but it was very apparent that he was trying. A muscle at the front of one shoulder twitched, then the fingers of his opposite hand, feet shifting slightly on the ground. He wasn’t nearly settled, but he’d get there.

“Up on the bed,” Tom said, giving him room to move. “On your hands and knees, facing the dresser.”

Ben moved to the middle of the mattress, placing himself carefully so his knees and hands were evenly spaced, his face lifted up towards the dresser as Tom had said. 

“Lower your head. Sit back on your heels, but leave your hands on the bed.” Tom watched him from the foot of the bed. Ben obeyed him without hesitation, intuiting what he meant, his shoulders lowering as his arms stretched out, his forehead touching the mattress as his bum rested on his heels.

There was still too much movement in him, the ropey muscles of his arms apparent as faint shadows against his pale skin, shifting every time he changed the distribution of weight through his hands. 

Tom walked around to stand in front of him, resting his hand on the back of Ben’s neck as he watched him. His core was still enough. Tom slid his hand from Ben’s neck down to his shoulder, following his arm to his wrist. Taking his hand Tom turned him gently and pushed back until Ben’s arm was laid back against the side of his thigh, his knuckles against the bed.

“The other one too,” Tom said softly. Ben wobbled on his knees as he made the change, the tension in his neck increasing as he tried to stay steady without his palms on the bed. Tom stepped back for a moment and took in the sight of him. Fingers curved loosely towards his palms looked relaxed, but Ben’s back had lost some of its natural curve as he tightened his core, trying to keep from toppling over. Tom finally realized that Ben’s knees were digging into the soft top of the mattress, itself no fit surface to try to find stability on. Realizing his mistake, he stood in front of Ben again, a steadying hand on each shoulder. 

“Bring your hands back under your shoulders, palm down,” Tom said. Ben did, lifting his chin instinctually, the position a prelude to pushing himself up even if that wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t a position he could easily rest in. “Can you show me where you’d be most comfortable putting your arms?”

Ben nodded, bringing his forearms in front of himself, hand to elbow, resting the side of his head on his folded arms. He looked up at Tom, waiting, but finally still.

“Could you stay like this for a while?” Tom looked down at his neck, wondering how long it would take for him to be annoyed at keeping it turned to one side.

Ben nodded again. Tom thought for a moment. He hadn’t told Ben not to speak, but Ben had taken it upon himself to go quiet. 

“Alright. Turn your head to the other side when you need to.” Tom went to the head of the bed and stacked all of Ben's pillows against the headboard, then sat with his back pressed against them, lifting his legs up to rest them evenly across Ben’s back. He settled his weight on Ben slowly, able to see just a sliver of the side of his face. No line marked his brow, but Tom had to ask anyway.

“Alright Ben?”

Ben nodded, then cleared his throat, lifting his head a little as he spoke. “It’s good.” He settled his head back down and Tom stopped straining to look at what little of his face was visible. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he noted the time, then set the phone aside. There was nothing he particularly wanted to read or look up, and it wouldn’t do, even as passive and static as Ben was, to let his attention wander too far. 

He lost track of time, looking at the opposite wall, thoughts drifting to the days ahead. A small sneeze from Ben (genuine, Tom judged instantly, no artifice to it) brought him back to himself and he checked his phone again, finding that a quarter hour had passed.

As he lifted his legs off Ben’s back he kept his eye on Ben’s shoulders, watching for movement, but he was perfectly still, no recoil as Tom took his weight away, as he’d simply relaxed into the lower position. 

Tom swung his legs around to the other side of the bed, standing so he faced Ben’s arse. He reached out for him, finding it only a bit of a strain, and grasped his hips. 

“Shift back towards me,” Tom said. “You can get on your hands and knees.” 

Ben moved back quickly, then sank down onto his forearms again, his arse still lifted high in the air. The back of each thigh was marked with a deep shadow, tapering towards his knee, from the prominence of his femur. Tom ran his hands up that furrow, turning his hands over to run the backs of his fingers over the skin stretched between the femur and his pelvis, all of it just barely made into a curve by what little fat was left under his skin. Tom stroked down the sides of Ben’s arse, so far from the lush curve he was used to, and turned his hands to grasp him hard, mindful of his instruction not to leave a mark. With so little padding, that was going to be a tall order.

When Tom struck Ben’s arse with his open hand there was barely a quiver in his flesh. If Ben felt that kind of treatment tomorrow, it wouldn’t be for the right reasons. Tom reached up and rubbed a small circle over the base of his spine. 

“Stay put.” 

Tom walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, reaching up and back for the key that Ben kept there on a sturdy cord, then to the dresser, unlocking the top drawer. Ben was mildly paranoid that a housekeeper might look in his personal things, hence the key, but Tom had also grown to like the extra step, knowing that even when Ben couldn’t see him he could still hear the grating sound of the key in the lock, the high pitched click as the old mechanism let go.

Tom gathered what he wanted quickly, then returned to the bed, dropping everything near the head of the bed so Ben could hear the thud. He smiled to himself as Ben wriggled, his face still turned away-- clearly he was taking Tom’s instruction to stay put quite literally.

Tom set up quickly, having thought it all out in a moment, the largest carabiners clipped over the top rail, the smaller ones lower down on the vertical slats. Each one still had a rope attached with a clever sliding knot from the last time they’d played with them, and Tom realized with a pang that he couldn’t quite remember when that was. 

“Roll over and come up here to me.” 

Ben unfolded himself slowly and stretched before he rolled over as Tom had said, turning as he slid himself up to the head of the bed. 

Tom took Ben’s nearest hand, fastening on the well worn cuff, caressing the back of his hand as he clipped it to the rope. As Tom leaned over to reach for Ben’s other hand he sank down on his elbow, brushing his nose against Ben’s cheek before kissing him. Ben smiled as Tom pulled away, looking up to where Tom was fastening his other hand. 

Tom found himself smiling as well as he wrapped Ben’s ankles in cuffs. Used less frequently, they were stiffer, and he worked them in his hand before he buckled them on. Tom stood up with his hand cupped under Ben’s left ankle, raising Ben’s leg as he walked towards the head of the bed. When Ben bent his knee, Tom stopped.

“No, Ben. Leave your leg straightened out.” He was vaguely aware that Ben was digging his right foot into the bed to give himself some leverage, lifting his bum up as Tom brought his foot to the headboard, but that was fine. He’d lose that advantage soon enough. The process was easier with his right leg too. Ben was more flexible on his right side, a trait that Tom had been aware of for some time, and his body wanted to be symmetrical, balanced out with hands and feet equally spaced. 

Tom stepped back to admire the shape of Ben’s body. The position accentuated how lean he was, the shape of his hips and bottom all too clear as his legs were stretched back, but it showed off his ropey muscles, too, and there was nothing Ben could do about the way his arse cheeks were already spreading apart. 

“You said you wanted to feel it tomorrow,” Tom said as Ben looked over at him. He ran his hands over the taut lines of Ben’s hamstrings, then turned back to the dresser, finding what he wanted by feel. 

Ben jumped when Tom dragged the falls of the flogger over his skin, then settled even as Tom let them brush against the gathered skin of his sac, twirling a bit as he dragged them over his perineum.

“You ready?” Tom asked. His own voice surprised him. He hadn’t meant to ask-- Ben knew what was coming. But he’d looked up at Ben’s face and the question had just happened.

“Yes.” Ben’s fingers flexed for a moment, then went slack, his ribs visible as he took a deep breath. 

Tom stepped back and took a moment to refamiliarize himself with the heft and reach of this particular flogger. Ben usually preferred being struck with something solid, but the lack of meat on his bones made Tom doubt that he could carry that off without leaving some serious marks. When it landed against his own denim covered thigh it still carried a significant thud, and he could only imagine how it would feel against the sensitive junction of arse cheek and thigh, given how Ben was stretched. The falls were short, though, and wide, less risk of them wrapping around a leg or straying to where he didn’t want them. He moved himself close to the bed, pressing the outside of his thigh against the edge of the mattress, and struck the raised curve of one cheek, then the other, pausing to look up at Ben.

Ben was looking calmly at the ceiling, the very picture of serene rest. Tom struck him in the same spots, harder this time, then more softly on the back of each thigh. For all that he had tried to go easy over Ben’s stretched tendons, he heard a sharp gasp after the first, a stuttered groan after the second. 

He returned to the curves of Ben’s arse, now tilted up as Ben tried to ease the strain in the back of his legs by lifting his tailbone, letting the falls wrap just enough to deliver a bit of sting to the side of his hip. Pacing himself Tom kept his strokes gentle to the side of Ben’s thighs, returning to his cheeks before leaning closer, delivering one last gentle strike to the back of each thigh.

Despite his best effort at gentleness, Ben still shouted, as Tom had expected, his neck craned up as he watched Tom set the flogger aside. 

As Ben panted, the harsh sound filling the room, Tom undressed, slowly, laying his clothes on the dresser as he did. As he knelt on the bed he found himself transfixed by the sight of Ben’s body from that angle, from his splayed open thighs to his cock resting against the inward curve of his lower abdomen, and onward to the stretched planes of his chest and the rise of his arms. Leaning forward Tom passed his hands over Ben’s thighs, planting his hands on the bed before lowering himself, licking a broad stripe along each side of Ben’s groin, pressing hard into the crease of his skin where his raised legs forced it into a fold. 

Ben’s cock had filled, starting to curve away from his body, straining towards his stomach as the shiny head bumped against his skin. Tom couldn’t resist tasting him, running his tongue around the head, pursing his lips and pushing down on Ben’s foreskin before lapping at his slit, tasting the bitter drop that had gathered there. Tom opened his mouth wide, taking Ben’s cock as deep as he could before giving him a warm wet suck, pulling back slowly and lingering for a moment with just his head surrounded by his lips, his tongue moving in a lazy circle before he let go.

Tom looked up to find Ben’s head thrown back, the cords of his neck standing out as he panted. Tom bent his head again, nosing against the crinkled skin of Ben’s sac, then licking the smooth taut skin behind it, turning his head as he mouthed at his taint, trying to suck the soft skin into his mouth. Tom made no effort not to drool in the attempt, knowing he was slobbering all over Ben’s hole. 

He reached up and held onto Ben’s thighs as he made his tongue into a point, tracing up the gathered seam of flesh that led to his balls. Ben’s breath was harsh but steady, stuttering into a moan only when Tom licked along his cock, tonguing the gathered liquid from his slit one more time. 

Tom eased himself to the edge of the bed, standing on one leg as he reached to the top of the dresser for the lube and condoms, then settled himself back on the bed. He covered his fingers in lube and dragged them through Ben’s already slick crease, barely pressing against his hole before slipping inside. Ben tried to push against him, but he was caught by the rigidity of his own legs, able only to slip closer by moving his hips down, stretching his knees straighter than ever before. Tom looked up at Ben, his eyes closed, brow furrowed as his legs strained, and made a decision.

“Going to take the cuffs off, love,” Tom said, pulling his hand away reluctantly as he moved towards the top of the bed.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest as Tom released them, bent his knees as soon as Tom unclipped his feet from the headboard. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Tom said. “You’re going to be holding yourself up.” He slipped Ben’s closest forearm under his own knee, showing him, and Ben rocked to the side as he got his other arm around his leg, glancing at Tom when he was done. “Just so,” Tom said, leaning in to kiss Ben’s forehead. 

As he positioned himself Tom knelt close enough to Ben that he could slide his knees just under Ben’s arse, taking some of the strain in Ben’s lower back. He found himself locking eyes with Ben as he rolled on the condom, unable to look away as he stroked himself twice, covering himself generously with lube. When Ben said he wanted to feel it the next day, Tom knew he meant the deep ache, not the surface sting that would come with being stretched too hard, too fast.

Tom held himself steadily against Ben’s hole as he straightened his back, letting that subtle movement give most of the pressure, Ben’s body almost not letting him in as he knelt up, tilting Ben’s pelvis even more sharply. Tom got his hands under Ben’s hips, holding him tight as he knelt forward, groaning out loud as the tight ring of muscle gave way to gripping heat. 

Ben’s lower lip was caught tight in his teeth, his eyes screwed shut as Tom pushed the rest of his length in, feet digging into the mattress as he pressed nearly straight down. He eased back onto his heels, sliding back, then wrapped his hands around Ben’s jutting hip bones, pulling him close. Ben whimpered, his eyes flying open at that, the feeling of being fucked by virtue of Tom moving his entire body at once. 

Tom pushed down on Ben’s hips as he eased back, then pulled him close again as he pushed forward, barely moving, sliding Ben up and down his cock. His eyes fluttered shut as he let himself get lost in the overpowering sensation of his hands holding Ben, wrapped around the outside shape of him that anyone could see, any time, just barely covered by a thin layer of clothes, while at the same time Tom was buried inside him, secret safe and close, the firm ring of muscle sliding up and down his cock like a hungry mouth. 

When he opened his eyes it was to find Ben staring at him, his head lifted up off the mattress, the soft skin of his neck folding under the angle of his chin pointed towards his chest. They both held still, then Ben took a deep breath, his head falling back as he did. 

“I’ve got you, Ben,” he said, shifting his hands on Ben’s hips, holding him close. “I’ve got you.” He held Ben steady and rocked his hips back and forth a few times, watching Ben’s chin point towards the ceiling as he relaxed the tension in his neck. Ben’s fingers were turning white where he was gripping his own leg, his knees beginning to shake. Tom eased him down, sliding his hands out from under Ben’s lower back and running them up the taut planes of his thighs. 

“You can let go,” he said, gently grasping Ben’s wrist and giving his hand a gentle tug. Ben wrapped his arms around Tom’s shoulders, lowering his legs more slowly, his breath stuttering in a high pitched whimper as he straightened them out. 

“Do you need a break?” Tom kept one hand planted on the bed, reaching back to rub down the outside of Ben’s leg with the other. 

“No. I’m good.” Ben slowly wrapped his arms and legs around Tom. The pressure of Ben’s calves against his hips had Tom flattening himself out, knees sliding back on the mattress as he reached up for Ben’s shoulders, lowering himself so they were chest to chest. Between them Ben’s cock warmed and began to fill, and Tom rocked against him for a moment, just for the pleasure of feeling it firming against his belly. 

Tom let his head rest on Ben’s shoulder as Ben ran his hands up and down Tom’s back. Between them Ben’s cock was heavy but not hard, staying that way while Tom steadily moved against him. It began to feel like something else altogether, a sleepy weekend morning fuck. While pleasant and warm, that wasn’t at all what Ben had asked for. 

Tom pushed himself up on his hands, making the angle between them sharper, more room to move his hips, to make Ben feel the length of his cock. He leaned down as Ben lifted his head up, their mouths coming together, wet and messy. 

“Do you want to feel this tomorrow?” Tom asked, thrusting into him.

“Yes.” Ben didn’t even move his head away, letting his mouth drag against Tom’s as he spoke.

“You’re sure?” Tom brought an arm behind Ben’s shoulders, holding on tight, giving himself as much leverage as he could. 

“I want to feel it for days,” Ben said, his voice somehow raspy and wet at the same time. Tom could barely pull himself away enough to ask the next question, their lips and tongues sliding together in a way that could only barely be called a kiss, Ben’s lower lip caught against his teeth for a moment.

“Can’t do that to you like this,” Tom said, already feeling the strain in his lower back from trying. “Going to have to move you.” 

“Ok.” Ben turned his face to breathe, and Tom licked up the side of his neck.

“Do you want that?” he asked, his lips brushing against the soft skin under Ben’s ear. 

Ben nodded furiously as Tom looked down at him. 

“Say it, Benny,” Tom said. “Tell me what you want.”

Ben opened his mouth as if to answer, but then surged forward, his teeth scraping over Tom’s lower lip as he craned his neck up to kiss him again. 

“You want me to fuck you hard?” Tom asked, his voice almost lost inside the sound of Ben’s harsh breath, warm against his face. 

“Yes.” Ben tried to kiss him again but Tom leaned back. 

“You have to tell me.” 

Ben pushed his head into the mattress, struggling to keep himself away from Tom, and forced himself to enunciate. “Fuck me hard,” he said, grinding out the words. “Hard as you can.”

Tom groaned as he pulled away, moving to the edge of the bed and standing up, reaching for Ben’s hips and dragging him to the edge of the mattress. Ben didn’t resist but didn’t help either, as Tom manhandled him until his tailbone was barely on the bed at all. 

The condom felt sticky and rumpled against him, and he stripped it off, throwing it on the floor before opening another. Staring at Ben as he rolled it on Tom took in the patches of red that covered his chest, the shine of sweat on his pale neck. Tom grabbed Ben’s legs by the back of his knees and lifted them up, stepping forward as he pushed them apart, taking the weight of Ben’s legs on his arms. 

Ben was plenty slick, the lube visible even in the dim light, but Tom bent his head and spit, missing Ben’s hole by a good inch. Shifting Ben’s right leg to his shoulder, Tom took his cock in his hand and nudged the head against the gathered spit, dragging it down to his hole and nudging in. 

Tom took a deep breath as he was halfway in, Ben squeezing around his sensitive head, the warmth all the more shocking after having been away from him, and lifted Ben’s left leg onto his shoulders too, leaving his hands free to grasp Ben’s hips. 

Ben lifted his own hips as Tom entered him fully. Leaning forward, the weight of Ben’s legs on his shoulders, Tom felt more that he’d fallen into Ben than pushed, gravity holding them together even as Ben worked to raise himself. 

Tom pressed him down, knees bending as he followed, holding Ben tight to the mattress, steady and still as Tom pulled back, letting his hips swing fully forward, the jut of each hip bone thudding into the sparse meat of Ben’s ass. 

Tom stood up straight, bracing his shins against the edge of the bed rail, and reached up to grasp Ben’s ankles, grabbing them and pushing them back and apart, Ben’s hips angled up even more perfectly as his knees fell back and open. 

When Tom swung his hips forward there was nothing stopping his cock from sinking as deeply as possible into Ben, the front of his pelvis pressing into the spread soft skin around Ben’s hole. He looked up at Ben’s face, alarmed, afraid that he’d pushed too far. 

“It’s good,” Ben said, his voice rough but clear. “Please, keep going.” 

Tom pulled back until his entire body was screaming at him to get back inside Ben already. He straightened his back, lifting Ben’s legs as he did, bringing them together and setting them over his shoulders, then slammed himself forward, watching Ben as he did. 

Ben kept his eyes fixed on Tom the first time, then let his eyes flutter shut, his lips parted. His brows raised as Tom let gravity and momentum swing his hips forward until he could go no further, but there was no furrow to his forehead. His hands were loose at his sides, one hand reaching for his cock, fingers encircling it for a moment, then letting go. Ben wasn’t holding on or enduring Tom fucking him, he was allowing it.

The room was filled with the sounds of them, Tom’s rough breath, almost panting as he held himself steady, fingers digging into Ben’s thighs, Ben’s legs against his chest and shoulders. Ben’s soft moans turned throatier, deeper, his hands moving more as a flush spread across his chest and throat, grasping his cock, then letting go, the onslaught of sensation of Tom in his ass overpowering practically anything that might get him hard. 

The back of Ben’s calves were sticky against Tom’s shoulders. Tom ran his hands up the outside of Ben’s thighs, grasping the backs of his knees and pushing, Ben’s back curving as Tom bent forward, bringing Ben’s knees to the mattress.

Tom’s eyes closed as he slid deeper into Ben, feeling like he was falling, unable to bring himself to pull back any further than the smallest pulse of his hips. He let his forehead rest against Ben’s temple, breathing against his neck, keeping tabs on him only by the sound of his breath and the subtle tension of his body. After a moment he forced himself to pick his head up, to look down at Ben, only to find him blinking as Tom dripped sweat onto his face.

With Ben’s cock soft between them there was no natural ending for Ben, and Tom searched his face, trying to tell when it would be enough, holding back the building pressure that seemed to fill him from the base of his spine to just behind his balls, gathered so tight now that he was barely grazing Ben’s ass with them now. 

It took Tom a moment to realize that Ben was speaking to him, his voice so soft, the words following the rhythm of his body being moved against the bed that Tom had missed it at first.

“What, Ben?”

Ben swallowed hard, then licked his lips, his eyes wide as he tried to make himself understood. 

“Come inside me. Please.” 

Tom dropped his head to Ben’s shoulder, pushing Ben’s legs back even harder, each shin flat against the mattress as he pushed as deep into Ben’s ass as he could, his whole body heaving as his cock pulsed, throat raw as he roared into Ben’s neck. 

In the silent moment that followed he held his breath, listening for Ben over the rush of blood in his ears. He lifted his chest slowly, shifting his hands from Ben’s legs to the bed, letting Ben relax, though his legs were still bent back and spread. As Ben locked his heels at Tom’s lower back he looked up at Tom, a smile spreading across his face.

“You alright Ben?”

“Yeah. You?”

Tom nodded, not wanting to let on that he was perturbed with himself for losing control at Ben’s muttered command. 

“Gotta move,” Tom said, pressing up against Ben’s crossed legs as he pulled back.

“Alright.” Ben winced as he uncrossed his legs, and Tom could only imagine the relief from the stretch he’d had with them locked together like that. Tom pinched the base of his cock, holding onto the condom as he pulled back, steadily, stifling a groan as his head popped through Ben’s tight ring.

Brushing his fingers over Ben’s ass he was struck by how Ben hardly looked like anything at all had happened, his hole tight, surrounding skin barely pink. 

“How do you do it Ben?” Tom asked as he tied the condom off, setting it on the floor in plain sight. 

“Just lucky I guess.” His legs hung limp over the side of the bed, skin at the join of his thigh and hip stretched as his back bowed up. 

“Back on the bed with you,” Tom said, scooping an arm under Ben’s calves and turning him so he was entirely supported.

As he climbed up onto the bed he nudged and pulled on Ben until they were sat against the headboard, Ben between his knees. Tom rubbed his hand up Ben’s chest, tracing the line of his throat, cupping his chin and tilting his head back to kiss him deeply, his other hand toying with Ben’s nipples. Ben whimpered as Tom pinched him, the noise making his tender, ridiculously overstimulated cock twitch against his leg. 

Tom sat up and pulled the pillow out from behind his back, reached over and grabbed the other pillows and made a stack next to them, gathering up the comforter too. He turned Ben until his shoulders were supported by the pile, twisting so Ben was lying across the pile, legs thrown over Tom’s thighs.

It was a stretch to reach the bottle of lube, but Tom knew he’d never get everything arranged the way he wanted. Ben watched as he coated first his right palm, then the first two fingers of his left hand. 

Nudging against Ben’s inner thigh with the back of his hand Tom looked up at Ben. 

“What are you doing?” Ben asked, breathless as Tom slid his fingers between Ben’s cheeks, pressing at his hole. 

“I’m getting you off, Baby.” Tom slid in as Ben’s head fell back, overcome as much by the name as Tom’s fingers in his sensitive ass. 

Tom pulsed his fingers against Ben’s prostate, sliding along the smooth groove down the center with one fingertip, otherwise still. Ben was half hard by the time Tom reached for his cock, eyes closed, breathing through his mouth. 

As Tom’s well lubed hand slid up his shaft Ben whimpered, his head thrown back onto the pile of pillows and blankets he was propped up against, and his cock firmed, filling Tom’s hand. Tom kept his touch simple, sure that Ben was close. 

“Don’t know what’s more gorgeous Benny, you taking it when I fuck you, or all pink and desperate like this.”

Ben’s high pitched whine sounded like an answer, only slightly muffled by his face turned towards the pillow. Tom held him up the best he could with his thigh under Ben’s lower back, but Ben was boneless, melting into the covers. His left arm ached as he tried to support Ben where his thigh draped over his forearm, but to really hold him he’d have to give up either the hand on his cock or the fingers up his ass. Tom twisted his left hand so his thumb brushed against Ben’s taint, then pressed in, squeezing him and stroking his cock with the same deliberate rhythm. 

Ben’s head was thrown back, only the underside of his chin visible, the soft skin there pulled tight as he swallowed. Tom felt the squeeze of muscle around his fingers a moment before Ben arched his back, hard, shoulders sliding down to the bed, his cock thrust straight up into Tom’s fist as his body bowed.

Tom kept the movement of his hands steady as Ben came, the steady pulse of warmth over his knuckles matching the clench and release of Ben’s ass. Tom relaxed his grip as Ben’s breath returned to normal. He carefully laid Ben’s cock against his skin, watching the semen there already cooling and forming a sticky patch that the soft skin of Ben’s cock seemed to sink into. 

He rubbed Ben’s hip as he wiggled his fingers gently, trying to break the seal that had formed between them. “You almost ready?” He looked down to find Ben watching him, eyes wide open.

“Let me sit up a bit first.” Ben reached an arm towards his shoulders and Tom leaned forward to let him get a good grip on his opposite shoulder, reaching down with his free arm to help boost Ben up. “Ok. Go ahead.” Ben breathed in deeply through his nose as Tom pulled his fingers free, resting his head on Tom’s shoulder as he shuddered. 

Tom dragged his fingers along the side of Ben’s leg before wrapping his arms around Ben’s waist, holding him close. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” he said, Ben’s head heavy against him. 

“I’m not, I’m just,” Ben let his words trail off. 

Leaning his head forward Tom let his lips brush against the short hair just above Ben’s ear. “I could fuck you like this, if only I could get it up again,” he said, smiling as Ben shuddered. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of this bed.”

“Don’t want to,” Ben muttered, but when he shivered it felt real, his back coming out in gooseflesh. 

“Gotta get you warmed up,” Tom said, levering his arms under Ben’s legs and encouraging him to slide off towards the edge of the bed. “Washed up and warmed up, and then back to bed with you.”

“And you?” Ben asked as he stood next to the bed. 

“Me too,” Tom said, chagrined that Ben would even think that he’d be left alone after all that. He rested his hand on Ben’s shoulder as he walked them to the bathroom, unable to stand the thought of not touching him, even for a moment.

He’d thought of showering with Ben, but the sight of the generously sized tub tempted him with the more decadent option of getting Ben cleaned up. 

“What do you think, Ben?” he asked. “Shower or bath?”

“Bath,” Ben said, no hesitation. “Can you start the taps and then give me a minute?”

“Of course.” Tom was reluctant to let go but Ben seemed steady enough, resting his hand on the sink as Tom bent down to close the drain in the tub, turning the faucet on and holding his hand in the water until it seemed to be just the right side of too hot. 

“You won’t let it overflow?” Tom asked as he stood up.

“I’m not as gone as all that,” Ben said. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

“Alright.” Tom shut the washroom door behind himself, then looked around the bedroom. He’d already thrown the condoms in the wastebasket, but thinking of Ben’s housekeeper coming in while Ben was away he took the entire thing to the kitchen, dumping the tissues and condoms into the bin under the sink and tying the bag off. He washed his hands, then looked around the kitchen, considered tidying up the mugs but decided to leave them in the sink. After a drink of water he headed back up the stairs with the wastebasket. In the bedroom he opened the window, letting the cool night air flood in. The room didn’t have any particular scent to it that he could tell, but he’d been accused of not noticing such things in the past. He shook out the bedclothes and did a rough job of turning down the bed-- good enough considering that they’d be getting back into it shortly.

He was tucking the flogger back deep in the drawer when Ben cracked the washroom door open. 

“Tub’s full,” he said.

“Shall I come in?”

“Yes.” Ben left the door open as he stepped back.

Ben left the small lights on over the sink but the harsher overhead light was off, leaving the bathtub in a softer glow. Tom watched Ben lower himself into the water, leggy as an egret, before he knelt on the mat next to the tub.

“Not joining me?” Ben asked, leaning his head back as he slid deeper into the water. The tub was just barely big enough for two, but Tom wanted him to be able to stretch out.

“Not tonight. I’ll have a shower before I come to bed.”

Ben’s head snapped up as he turned to Tom. “You’re staying here?”

“I was hoping to,” Tom said, working to keep his voice steady. Had he not planned on staying he wouldn’t have worked Ben over so hard, but he wouldn’t force the issue if Ben didn’t want him to stay.

“Good.” Ben relaxed again, his chin dipping towards his chest.

Tom worked a soapy flannel over his chest, massaging over the front of his shoulders where he knew Ben must have felt the pull when his arms were over his head. Ben stayed still as Tom washed his arms and hands, shifting when Tom brushed over his hips. 

Tom reached into the water with both hands, rubbing down first one thigh, then the other, Ben whimpering a bit as he squeezed just above and behind his knee.

“I’m going to feel that tomorrow,” Ben said.

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” Tom shifted to the end of the tub, rubbing his hands up and down Ben’s shins.

Ben laughed softly. “I suppose it was.”

Tom got the flannel soapy again and washed Ben’s legs, working his way up towards his bum, pleased when Ben lifted up. Tom could only feel, not see, as he reached back, but Ben’s face stayed placid. 

“Does this hurt?” Tom asked, unable to rely on his own good sense and Ben’s calm face for the moment. 

“No.” Ben rolled his head against the edge of the tub, looking at him. “I’m still feeling it, but it doesn’t hurt, and it’s not there.”

“Where then?” Tom took the flannel away, worried that he was irritating Ben now, and tossed it into the laundry hamper. 

“My legs, for one thing,” Ben said, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“You know what I mean,” Tom admonished him. His hand dipped back into the water, reaching down, cupping Ben’s balls, the sack soft and pliant around them. 

“Deeper,” Ben said, his eyes closing. “It’s sort of an echo of a feeling. I think that’ll fade by tomorrow.” He opened his eyes. “My legs, on the other hand.”

“Point taken.” Tom reached down to squeeze his thigh. “Do you wish I’d gone easier on you?”

“No. Not at all.” Ben’s smile was sleepy and fond, and Tom felt intoxicated by the sight of it, suddenly, wishing he had more than just the one night to spend with him. He leaned over the edge of the tub and kissed him, Ben’s mouth opening easily under his own. Ben reached up to cup the back of his head, holding him close as he became bolder, pressing deeper into Tom’s mouth. 

Tom’s chest dug into the edge of the tub and he shivered as the water from Ben’s hand cooled and dripped down the back of his neck. He pulled back, pushing himself away from the tub. 

“Think we’d better get you rinsed off and into bed,” he said, standing up. 

Once they had the water drained and the shower running Ben seemed steady enough, but accepted a hand from Tom to step over the high side of the tub. He shivered as Tom wrapped a towel around his shoulders and Tom thought of the open window in the bedroom beyond. Tom guided Ben to sit on the edge of the bed as he closed the window, then dried the back of Ben’s neck, rubbing the towel all over his back before turning to the dresser, pulling out a soft t-shirt and trousers. Ben held out his hand for them but Tom set them on top of the dresser.

“Just a minute.” He reached into the top drawer where the flogger and other implements were kept and felt along the back edge until he found the broad flat jar, pulling it out. “I’ll do your back first.” 

Kneeling on the bed behind Ben he had to be careful not to push down too hard on his shoulders, so he sat himself down, letting his legs bracket Ben’s as he worked the balm into his back. He reached under Ben’s arms and grasped the front of his shoulders, rubbing his fingers along Ben’s pecs, then swept his hands down Ben’s sides.

“Roll over,” Tom said as he slid back out of the way. Ben whimpered as he rubbed the arnica balm into the back of his thighs, reaching his hands around to give his legs a firm squeeze. “Alright?”

“It’s good,” Ben said, letting his head drop to the pillow again.

After he’d finished covering Ben in the balm, at least the parts he presumed were sore, he put the cover on the near empty jar and stashed it in the drawer again, then brought Ben the pajamas. As Ben stood to pull them on Tom pulled back the duvet, covering Ben after he climbed back into bed.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Tom said, once Ben was settled. “Back in a moment.”

He showered quickly, not wanting to be away from Ben for longer than necessary, but Ben was already asleep by the time he came out. He pulled on a long loose t-shirt from Ben’s dresser and checked that he had an alarm set on his phone, then slid into bed himself. 

He woke with a start, surprised that the room was light and worried that he hadn’t heard an alarm, but Ben’s side of the bed was empty. He rubbed his hand over his face and sat up, resting his arms on his knees. He’d slept well, but still felt worn from the events of the day before. 

He heard Ben coming up the stairs and lifted his head just as he came in, a mug in each hand.

“Thought you might want a coffee,” Ben said as he set one down next to Tom on the bedside table. “You slept right through my alarm and me getting up and all.”

“That’s unusual,” Tom said, reaching for the mug. 

“I know. I was almost worried.” Ben sat down next to him in the bed, his legs over the covers. “Then I figured that well, you’d had your share of exertion last night.”

Tom huffed a laugh as he raised the mug to his mouth. “True. How are you doing yourself?”

“Sore, but nothing I can’t handle. Nothing I didn’t want.” Ben’s smile looked satisfied. 

“Alright. Good.” Tom took another sip of his coffee. “At least if anyone asks, you can say you were just going too hard at Pilates.”

“The danger in that gambit being that I might actually someday have to do Pilates.” 

“Good looking ahead.” Tom leaned his head back against the headboard, not looking at Ben but still acutely aware of how close Ben was to him, and how still, which wasn’t all that usual for either of them much less both of them at the same time. 

When his coffee was almost gone Ben interrupted the silence. “Can we do this again sometime?”

Tom rolled the back of his head against the bar in the headboard he was leaning against. “I should hope so.”

“I mean, us having coffee together, just like this, but without me having to run off to work.”

“We can.” As soon as he said it he felt the reality of what their lives were like-- if he had a whole day off in London it was as likely as not that he’d be seeing Louis at some point, and it was rare that his schedule and Ben’s lined up, not to mention taking into account Shannon’s own schedule. He’d no sooner felt it than he felt how important it was going to be to push past that and find another quiet moment like this with Ben, even if he had to say no to something else. “We absolutely can.”

“Thanks.” Ben set his cup aside and leaned towards Tom, slouching down to rest his head on Tom’s shoulder. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“When do you actually have to leave?” Tom reached over and set his mug on the nightstand. 

“Now.” Ben’s voice was the epitome of a grumble. “Though I have to say it’s better than it would have been had I not seen you last night.” He sighed deeply. “But I still have to go.” He broke away from Tom and resolutely swung his legs over the side of the bed, and walked out of the room. 

Tom dressed quickly then followed him downstairs, carrying their mugs. He set them in the sink as Ben gathered his overnight bag and put on his coat.

“Just out of curiosity,” Ben said as they walked to the door, “what are you going to tell Shannon about your visit here?”

Tom considered the question. “Nothing, really. If she asks how our evening was I’ll just tell her we had a nice visit and leave it at that.”

“She won’t be more curious, after,” he trailed off. “Everything?”

“She might be, but I’ve never known her to pry. If anything she’s going to ask if you were ok.”

“You can tell her that I am.”

Tom nodded. “Alright.” 

“Look, I’m going to try to put my better foot forward next time, but I’d rather you not tell her that I said that.”

Tom took a moment to think that over, trying to intuit why Ben wouldn’t want a seemingly innocuous statement repeated. “Because it would seem too much like you’re admitting you didn’t this time?” 

“That, and too much like I’m asking you to carry a message between us, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Fair enough.” Tom stepped close and cupped the back of Ben’s head, letting his fingers card through his hair. “You can be assured of my discretion.” He gave the words his best received pronunciation and was rewarded with a crooked smile. 

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Ben said before giving into the gentle pressure on the back of his skull, leaning forward for a kiss. 

They parted and Tom turned towards the door, stepping onto the footpath and giving Ben room to lock up. 

“Have a good drive,” Tom said.

“You too.” Ben put on an overly earnest face. “Remember to take a break after a couple of hours, alright? Do you have your sat nav?”

Tom giggled despite himself. “Yes mum. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“See that you do.” 

Tom reached his car and got inside, resolutely not looking back at Ben, but as he turned around at the end of the close and headed back he couldn’t help but notice Ben still sitting in his car, readying himself for his considerably longer drive. He let himself look, caught Ben’s eye, both of them lifting their fingers off the wheel in the usual motorist’s wave as Tom drove past. He reached the end of the street and turned towards home, fighting the heaviness that descended on him along with the irrational desire to turn back and jump in Ben’s car, follow him to Wales and blow off all of his own commitments for the next few days. He shook his head as he thought of Max waiting in his crate, not to mention his own child who he would see in the next few days, and drove on.

**Author's Note:**

> We're not quite done with the other two pieces but wanted to post this one as a holiday gift for our readers.


End file.
